


starshooter

by gothcowboy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alley Sex, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Keith, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Galra Empire, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, Making Out, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Private Investigators, Public Blow Jobs, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Top Lance, and Shiro's rich as hell, except theyre a gang lol, there's only porn in the second and fifth chapters tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-16 21:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14173368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothcowboy/pseuds/gothcowboy
Summary: Rule Number One of the Private Eye's Handbook: Don't get involved with your own personal affairs. No family, friends, lovers should be involved in your work life.Keith's Homemade Rule Number Two: Discard Rule One if there's a big enough paycheck involved. Deal with the emotional distress after.Universal Rule Number Three: Don't fall in love with your suspect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's finds that his target is...a little too much for him.

Ever since he met him, Keith has wanted to kick Lance McClain's ass.

There wasn't a lot of reason why, but it mostly had to do with the way the thief had kissed him, stolen his bike's keys and drove off, leaving him locked in his own desert cabin.

He was pretty sure this asshole stole his heart too.

Except it took Shiro five hours to realize something had went terribly wrong with Keith's investigation. It took him another hour to actually drive down the desert freeway before seeing a sweaty and disheveled detective hitchhiking his way along the dusty road, giving him way too much time to think about McClain’s stupid, kissable face. Keith never thought he could be so happy to see a more messed up, beaten down car like Black in his life.

“Take it you lost the target then?" Shiro asked with that reassuring tone that Keith hated as he slammed the car door while getting inside. Instead of answering, Keith's hands moved to tie his hair up and took a big swig of Shiro's coffee mug while looking him in the eye.

"Drive."

Shiro drove. Mostly in silence at first, until Shiro became the bigger person and put on that rock emo shit that Keith likes. Even though he's...not eighteen anymore? Still appreciated, though.

Keith's gaze moved from the sand whooshing alongside the car window and in Shiro's direction. He hesitated, his hands folded into his lap tightening before he drawled out an exhale.

“His name is Lance,” that seemed like a good way to start. “And man, he's crazy.”

**✩✩✩**

When Shiro had sat him down that first time inside his big, gray office, Keith really didn’t think it was going to be a big deal. It would either be a pep talk or a boring lecture on how he almost got killed last week, the kind of crap a big brother figure like Shiro spews on the daily. He’s used to it by now.

Help was the one thing that Keith wasn’t expecting. “You know that’s off my list, Shiro, I don’t like to get family involved with business, it’s just not something I-”

“Someone’s been stealing my cars, Keith.”

Shiro’s family has been in the vehicle-building business ever since Keith had known them. They’ve been one of the top selling corporations on the planet ever since the 2250, since they were the first to patent the speed-hovering cars. In short, Shiro’s family was rich as hell.

Being rich meant that you had the money for good security, really good security for that matter. Hell, Keith was sure that if he didn’t carry his ID with him everywhere the guards wouldn’t think about letting him in. But for someone to even get a chance to break in and steal just one car is ridiculous in itself.

“Okay, okay,” Keith put his hands up in defense, seeing how serious the situation was. “How many cars have been taken? If it’s less than twenty I’m sure you could hire another investigator.”  
Shiro shakes his head and pauses, picking up a tiny notepad that he’s jotted things down on.

“Our inventory manager says that over a hundred and fifty cars have been stolen after they were shipped to be distributed and another fifty five have been stolen from the main factories themselves,” Shiro explained slowly. “This was just in the past month, Keith. We can’t keep having our inventory deducted like this so majorly, it’s going to hurt the business.”

He was right, too. Keith didn’t know much about cars or distribution or whatever but he knew when Shiro was legitimately stressed out. This was one of those times, but he couldn’t put anything at risk with his own career. The Shirogane business was a bigger client than Keith had ever handled, he just couldn’t put himself through that.

“I’ll give you $150,000 if you find this guy, Keith, please. You’re the only person I trust with finding out about this,” his brother dropped the pad and stared him deep in the eyes.

Keith blinked. Then blinked again. “$150,000?” He murmured, mostly in shock. That was four times what he charged for a case, and triple of what he made annually. He couldn’t...exactly say no to that. Not like he was super broke, but it could do him some good. “Fine, okay, fine. I’ll do it, just..keep it on the downlow. I’m only doing it because Pidge could use the raise and the office could use a little fixing up. But other than that-”

“Hey, you know you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I just need the help, Keith. I wouldn’t have anyone else on the case but you.”

The two sat and exchanged information until Keith was satisfied and had enough to go on. He thanked his friend and went on his way. The first place he ended up is going rounds interviewing the workers in the main base, where the majority of the cars were stolen. No dice, which he was used to. It took time with things, but Keith was patient. Sort of.

“Listen here lady, I'll ask you one more time,” Keith growled, shoving one of the employees against the hard, cold garage wall. “You said you saw someone walking along the lot where the cars are kept, I need details on ‘em!”

The employee was stammering at this point, her eyes narrowing piercingly. “He was tan skinned, wearing a blue hoodie. Pretty sure he was brown haired, around 5’7 but I really couldn't tell, Mr. Kogane.”

His grip loosened and the employee pushed her purple undercut back, eyes glistening. “Anything else?”

“I saw the name McClain on his tag, but that's it.”

**✩✩✩**

“Pidge, hey,” Keith said into his comms, “I need a search on the last name McClain, 5’7 and tan skinned, brown hair, has been around the downtown area in the past two weeks.”

“Why boss, you got a boyfriend you need a background check on?”

Sometimes, Keith wanted to punch Pidge right through the comms system. Unfortunately, technology wasn't prepared to handle that yet, so Keith would have to live with aggressive eye rolling for now.

Pidge was good at their job though. Keith couldn’t exactly complain when he’s hired one of the most talented hackers/secretaries/programmers/friends/little shits in the whole country. Usually talent comes at a high price, but since Pidge was just an intern they were happy with any payment at all. Not to mention that they were close, and Pidge knew how hard it was to get any big business in a crisp-clean city like Altea anyway.

“Look, just do it, please. He’s the only lead I have on Shiro’s case right now,” Keith paused, seating himself onto his red and black hovercycle. It was one that his brother handmade especially for him for his 18th birthday and probably was his most prized possession. Personally, his favorite touch was the black vinyl lion holding a dagger in between its teeth alongside the cycle’s shiny fairing. Her name was Red, and she was beautiful. “I’m going to pick us up lunch, but call me if you get something, yeah?”

“Make sure Hunk puts the ketchup in the bag this time, Kogane, or else it’s your ass.” Pidge grunted before hanging up. Typical.

After switching his comms to its GPS function, he hooked it up to his helmet as he slid it on. It was a cat-eared red biker’s helmet that Pidge got him for..well, he couldn’t actually remember. Probably as a joke? But after he got over the embarrassment of driving around the city like a professional cat lover, Keith genuinely enjoyed the gift.

As the cycle started up, its outer rims glowed and it lifted a few inches off the ground easily. As the biker revved his engine, he pushed forward and raced down the half-empty roads of downtown Altea.

Altea itself is a nice city. Keith moved here when being placed with Shiro’s family all that time ago, but it by far has been the nicest place he’s ever lived. Sure, it was kind of a place for rich people to sit their rich asses down but hey, better than nothing. Not to mention that it was pretty scenic; the sidewalks were lined in rose gold and were properly clean, and the buildings were pretty cluttered, but in an aesthetically nice way. They were varying in sizes and in such a nice pattern of colors, despite not one block having the same palette.

Unfortunately, living in such a nice place meant that Keith had to travel for business when he got the chance. Crime rates were low, but Keith personally thinks that if the city wasn’t being ruled by such a hardass mayor like Allura, it would be way worse.

As he traveled through the streets of the city, he followed his route to the more-affordable restaurant district that lay in Altea. The detective’s face was glistening from the light of the neon sign that read “CAFÉ OF LIONS”, aka the best damn coffee diner Keith’s ever had the pleasure to be in.

Lunch was probably his favorite time of the day. No, it wasn’t just because there was food involved and no, it wasn’t for him to relax. Lunch was the best time to think and review. Lunch was the only, true time Keith had to focus. Especially at the cafe, where everything was calm and quiet. Usually, that is.

“Hunk, all I’m saying that if dinosaurs were real, they would obviously still would be around because-”.

Usually, there wasn’t this slinky nerd sitting with his legs crossed on top of Hunk’s countertop. It seemed disrespectful to the establishment, and to Hunk’s effort to keep the cafe clean. It annoyed Keith, just a little bit. But he ignored this asshole and went up to the counter anyway.

“Hey,” the raven-haired boy said, not caring about interrupting this guy and Hunk’s conversation. “Can I get uhhhh…” He trailed off once the stranger whipped his head to meet his eyes.

Blue, oceanic eyes pulled him out of speech immediately and shit, shit _shit shit shit shitshitshit_. 

It was him. It had to be him.

The counter guy was definitely taller than him, with smoky brown hair and caramel skin. Right now, he had a confused look on his face but Keith already could tell that this guy was stupidly attractive. Which was bad. Very, very bad, because Keith? Keith was really, _really_ gay, and this guy matched the description perfectly but he was really hot and god damn it Keith, pull yourself together, man.

He cleared his throat and slowly placed his hands on the counter.

“Can I get a Turkey Pesto Panini, a Chicken BLT with ketchup on the side and..and, uh, a coffee for this guy right here,” he gestured casually to the man sitting on the counter. Okay, so Keith kinda smirked when he heard Counter Boy make a shocked noise as he turned to Keith. Except he didn’t expect it to be an offended gasp.

“Uh, buddy, I work here. You can’t buy me a coffee, I _make_ the coffee.”

Keith shrugged, raising his chin to look at the other. “Yeah, so? Go make yourself a coffee then.” It was supposed to come off flirty, it really was.

See, there was a lot of things Keith was good at. He was good at fighting, fixing cars, riding hovercycles and on the occasion, being good at his job. It was funny, though, because as skilled as he was at his job, he wasn’t good at talking to people. Often he came off way too blunt or way too subtle, eventually leading him to get into more kinds of trouble.

This was one of those times.

“Excuse me, you can’t just order me around like that, _sir_ ,” the brown haired boy sneered as he towered over the shorter man, just enough for Keith to read the holographic nametag on the other’s blue sweater.

“Listen, I was just trying to be nice, Lance.” The name sounded completely foreign to Keith’s tongue, and he couldn’t help but scrunch up his face just a little as he said it. Lance started to open his mouth before Hunk’s face stepped right around the corner, just in time to put a hand over Lance’s mouth.

“Hey, sorry about him, Keith. He’s brand new,” Hunk quickly explained, glaring at Lance in a way that could only mean ‘shut the fuck up and don’t scare our regulars away’. “Here, just, why don’t you both calm down and I’ll make up your order, okay? Lance’s lunch break starts now anyway.” With that, he lifted his hand and walked back into the kitchen area behind the counter.

Keith could’ve sworn that he saw Hunk wink at Lance as he walked away.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops. Things get tense and nasty, Keith's a freak but Lance indulges him. ;)

Usually, Keith’s interrogations included lots of yelling, hands slamming hard against a wooden desk and death threats from both sides. He wasn’t a cop, no, he was kicked out of the pre-sync a long ass time ago, so he and his private detective ass could play dirty all he wanted. He was never nervous, never afraid, even if the biggest, baddest mob boss Altea had to offer was sitting in that chair.

So yeah, he was a little surprised when he was shaking like a leaf when Lance was sitting right across from him, sipping his coffee without a care in the world.

“Keith, huh?” Lance finally spoke after a minute or two of awkward silence. “Do you do this for every pretty boy you meet?”

Shaking his head, Keith shrugged. “I don’t know.” It kind of came out of his mouth faster than he could think about it. He was way too bad at this. “How long have you been working here?”

“Three days,” Lance preened as he said it proudly.

“That a new record or something?”

“Well, I mean, kind of? I’ve been working a lot recently; odd jobs, you know? So they don’t normally last too long,” the brown haired man shuffled a little bit. “I’m happy to have this job though, hopefully I don’t fuck it up.”

“I’ve been there. When I first moved here I had to work..I dunno, three jobs part-time to put myself through an average college. Times are tough.” Keith was more or less grasping at straws with this guy, hoping he wasn’t going to scare him away and lose the target. “Are you a student?”

Lance nodded, “I’m going to graduate school to finish up my master’s degree in holographic engineering and my associate’s degree in piloting.” The student gave a cocky grin, obviously proud of being aware of his career path. “I’m hoping to work in the Arus guard, at some point.”

Keith paused. This kid, he really did seem like he was a hard worker. But he had to be the guy he was tracking down, right? Lance had to be lying, Keith’s gut knew it.

“What branch?”

“Altean, of course. I’m just hoping to get close to the Mayor..” Lance purred dreamily, trailing his finger down the side of his coffee cup. Keith couldn’t help but cringe just a little; he liked the mayor but couldn’t imagine anyone liking her like that. Not to mention her guards would kick anyone who stepped out of line to make advances toward her. Plus, Lance deserved someone who would take their time for him, Allura was a very busy lady after all.

Or uh, at least in Keith’s opinion.

“Keith? You okay there bud?” Lance’s eyes peered over his coffee cup, staring a little judgedly at the man sitting across from him.

Right. Interrogation.

He cleared his throat and pushed a weak smile on his face. “Sorry...about that,” Keith mumbled, his mind screaming at himself. “I usually don’t get the chance to talk to people so intimately like this, y’know? I’m not...all that good at it.”

The brown-haired man snickered and put down his cup to pat Keith’s folded hands. “That’s alright, sweetie,” he chuckled, “We can’t all be indescribably charming masters of love like yours truly here.” Lance added a wink to the end of that, and it made Keith’s stupid face so red that he wanted to punch the obvious ‘fuck me’ eyes right off Lance’s face.

“I hear Hunk calling you,” Keith immediately spit out of his mouth. “I should go, but..okay, look..” His hand reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a pen and his Special Detective Notepad™, scribbled down his number and placed it into Lance’s palm. “Call me when you get off work, okay?” He paused before standing and smiling lopsidedly at his date. “I’d like to get to know you better, Lance.“

Lance laughed heartily and shit, he can’t just do shit to Keith’s heart like that. “Yeah, alright man. I’ll see you around 8.”

Just like that, the boy of Keith’s dreams was gone. As for Keith?

He was in deep, deep shit.

**✩✩✩**

 

“You should really wear red more often, boss,” Pidge murmured as they chewed on their BLT. “But it looks more for a date rather than y’know, a mission.”

“An undercover mission, which is a date,” Keith corrected, straightening his shirt collar. “Don’t get used to it, Pidge.”

Red really was a good color on him, and even he had to admit that it made him stand out. The black, slim-fit shirt really made his red and yellow leather jacket pop. His dark leggings had tight, neon blue wire attached that lead up to his belt, which held dual holsters for his knife and peacemaker. But they did also look like they could hold keys or something, so there was nothing to be suspicious about.

He held onto his peacemaker for a solid second, trailing his finger around the red detailed stars patterned alongside it, with smaller black stars inside. It probably cost a hell of money that Keith didn’t have, but he wouldn’t know. It was a gift from Shiro, “to get rid of that shit pistol you keep using”, and branded with the newest tech of the era. From adjustable lethal to non-lethal damage in the ammo and the sleek glowing finish, it was Keith’s baby right next to his bike.

“Are..you nervous?” Pidge asked, watching their boss pace amongst the room. Keith glared and stopped in his tracks, shoving the gun in his holster. “Yeah, you’re definitely nervous.”

“I’m concerned,” was Keith’s response, but not exactly for the normal detective reasons he should be concerned about. Maybe it’s because Keith hasn’t had a proper date since he was in senior year and hasn’t gotten a good fuck in him since his pre-sync days. Maybe it was the fact that Lance was a very attractive perp that made him want to sit him down and kiss him and make him feel heavenly.

Or, maybe it was the fact that he was really overthinking this asshole who could probably kill him given the chance.

“You get that background check I asked for? I’d like to know if this dude is going to screw me over royally or not.” Pidge shook their head, tapping mindlessly at their comms.

“I’ll check again but I already told you he’s clean. Nothing on his record, except for speeding a few times. You’re safe.”

“‘Would rather him be dangerous at this point.”

The mess in a green hoodie snorted, tapping away at their handheld comms. “What’s your plan then? Just get this kid in bed and then force him to tell you everything he knows?”

There was a pause of silence, then Keith sighed, flopping back and rolling away in his chair. “It’s not that bad of an idea.”

“Well, it’s certainly not your brightest. But you know what?”

Keith groaned and rubbed his hands against his forehead, turning his chin upward to look at Pidge’s smirk.

“I think it just might work.”

**✩✩✩**

 

The buzz of his hovercycle was the most comforting sound at night. Altea was the perfect place to ride too, as the lonely day roads turned into halls of nightlife in the dark. Neon was one of the unique things that made the architecture of the city unique, and the streets were trailed with gold and white neon lights.

Keith’s raven hair lit up in flashes as he passed the glowing street lamps that lined the road. He traveled through the backroads and ended up at that sweet place that he loves.

Lance is spotted untying his apron casually, his figure just showing in the limelight. Blue shirt tucked into his dark jeans and he’s just pulling over a brown hoodie, Keith had to admit he had a pretty alright sense of fashion. Keith’s bike is just short of hitting the guy when he goes up to it, whistling.

“Damn, this yours?” Lance asked, leaning an elbow on the riser as the other took his helmet off. “Didn’t expect you for a cycle guy.” Keith shrugged, shoving the cat helmet into the other man’s hands.He rolled his eyes as Lance giggled at the helmet and he couldn’t help but feel awkward as he pulled at the little glowy ears. “Awww, didn’t take you for a cat person either.”

Keith really, really doesn’t get paid enough for this. He blames Shiro.

“Shut up and get on, pussylover. We’re going on a ride.”

With a laugh and a pat on the shoulder, the barista straddled the cycle’s seat. Warm hands slipped onto the detective’s hips and he could hear Lance purr with satisfaction behind the helmet. Before he could ask where they were going, Keith started the bike with a rumble and smirked when he heard the other yell startledly behind him.

Okay, so maybe he was going to have a little fun with this.

His passenger continued to yell as they traveled through Altea until they got to the more urban uptown. Granted, Keith wasn't rich but he sure as hell going to make this a hell of a date, only because it might be his last one.

When they got to the restaurant district, the shorter man parked the bike which made Lance topple right on top of him. The heavy panting from inside the helmet was just a little too attractive for him, but that was nothing once he saw Lance's flushed face and tossed hair from underneath the helmet.

“Seriously, do you take every pretty boy you meet out like this?” Lance chuckled as they both slid off the now lowered bike. Keith couldn’t help but snort and shake his head, taking the barista’s hand and leading him down the sidewalk. It was lined with dining places, with glowing fairy lights bordering the edges of each one. It was much less crowded than it was usual, which Keith was thankful for. “Where..do you wanna eat then? I know there are a few good places…”

They ended up in a little corner bistro where Keith had personally never been before. Lance wanted to dine outside which well, Keith couldn’t exactly complain about that, especially since the man sitting across from him was being bathed beautifully in the moonlight.

Lance folded his hands, his knee bouncing from underneath the table. “Y’know, I don’t actually eat out a lot, student life n’ all that.”

“Honestly..neither do I, my receptionist is the only reason I order out so much,” the detective said, pausing to look up from the menu.

“So you have a receptionist... Are you a lawyer or something?”

Keith froze; on one hand he’d love to be honest with Lance, get himself wrapped up and trust this person he just met today but..well. Shiro’s source was on the line and he couldn’t do that to him, no matter how much of a heartthrob Lance was.

“Yeah, more or less. I work downtown, but I end up traveling a lot. Right now, I’m settling a case for Takashi Shirogane, you heard of him?”

He watched as Lance fumbled a little, shrugging. His body language was calm, but there was something up in his eyes. “He’s that uhh...car guy, right? With the prosthetic thing goin’ on?”

“That’s him.”

“I’ve heard things in the media, but that’s ‘bout it. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Keith paused, pushing back his hair. “Have you ever been around his factories? They’re pretty gorgeous.”

“Mm, I’ve passed a few of them when I take the bus to the library, but I haven’t been in one," Lance tapped his finger on his chin, eyes widening. "Oh, wait actually. Now that I think about it, yeah I think I have! I went on a tour a few years ago when I was in high school for my business class. It was boring as hell, but it was a decent place. Nice cars in there, man.”

“Cool.” Keith twiddled with his menu as he watched the waitress travel over to their table. They ordered and Lance chatted- no, flirted? with the waitress and Keith couldn’t help but be a little jealous. Nothing he couldn’t brush off his shoulders, though. He raised an eyebrow when Lance turned back to him, giving him a sheepish smile.

“Ha, sorry. The ladies just _can’t_ get enough of me,” his guest purred. “I guess the guys can’t get enough of me either, huh?” He added with a wink, making Keith groan. This guy was gonna be the death of him.

“You wish,” Keith retaliated with a flustered blush. “I’m not that easy.”

“We’ll see about that, baby.” Another wink and a grin successfully pulled at the private eye’s heartstrings, making him want to puke up his feelings.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“I guess you’re just gonna have to find out.”

**✩✩✩**

 

Okay.

So Keith may have gotten distracted. He may have let Lance pull him into an alleyway, and may have let him push him up against the wall and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow. It was kind of euphoric, so Keith didn’t exactly want to stop.

Which was a problem, probably. Sorry, Takashi.

He couldn’t exactly say no to Lance when he was making those damn puppy eyes at him through dinner. Hell, he almost had to hunt down the waitress to give her the check just to rush out of there. But now, with Lance’s soft lips pressing on his and his warm, tan hands pushing up his black shirt and moving against his skin, he wasn’t allowed to complain.

“Not that easy, huh?” Lance teased, pulling back from their kiss to bump their noses together. “It was pretty easy for me to pull you right in here, where anyone could see us.”

“That’s because you were giving me _‘fuck me’_ eyes while I was eating my damn dinner,” Keith growled back, tugging on the brown cotton jacket. “I’m not exactly a patient person.”

That made Lance laugh under his breath, which was warm against Keith’s neck as he pressed solemn kisses trailing up to his jaw. “Duly noted. I bet you _hate_ being teased then, mm?”

Keith groaned, letting the other press a hand to his forearm, his back digging into the concrete of the wall. “Just shut up and kiss me, come on,” he whined as the other ghosted his lips right over his own, but purposefully kissing the corners of them instead. “Please, Lance.”

There was no answer, only the biting of his lower lip as Lance sealed their lips together once again. The hand pinning his arm slid down to link their hands together for a second before they were slipped apart. It made the shorter man jump when he felt that same hand cup his ass. Fuck, Keith didn’t realize how much he needed this.

“Touch starved, hm?” Lance mumbled, squeezing Keith’s ass to emphasize and earning a whine from Keith. “What, a lawyer like you can’t pay for a hook-up? Or were you just saving yourself all for me?” Rolling his eyes, Keith arched his back and let out a pained sound.

“You aren’t _that_ special, loverboy,” Keith snapped back, trying to hide his bluff.

With a smirk, Lance dropped to his knees, his pointer fingers hooking on the sides of Keith’s leggings, the neon lights highlighting his face. “I think I can change your mind.” Lance cupped his cock through those thin, red boxers and pressed gentle kisses through the fabric. It made Keith squirm enough that Lance had to hold down his thighs. “Shh, it’s okay. I gotcha.”

Pink lips slid around his cock in an instant and pressed down, causing Keith to gasp and slap a hand over his mouth. “Too much, _christ_ , too much!” He watched as Lance pulled off with a laugh and a sly look in his eye.

“Couldn’t help it, just wanted to show off,” the boy on his knees stuck his tongue out playfully before moving it onto the underside of Keith’s length. “You know, this technically isn’t legal. Pretty sure the public indecency fine is, mm, 2000 bucks, if not more?” He added kitten licks to the head, teasingly slow. “What would you do if you got caught, you bad little lawyer?”

Keith moved his hand to pull on Lance’s curly brown locks and sighed. “D-Don’t bring my job into this, asshole. Just suck my dick.” He rather not admit how much trouble he’s in already, derailing an interrogation to get fucked by the suspect. His mind was in other places though, considering Lance was easing his warm mouth onto him.

“Fuck yes, Lance, _please_. Keep going,” his voice cracked as he rubbed his fingers through the other’s hair, egging him on. “You feel- god, you feel so good, baby.” His chin tilted back and he grinned, living in the moment. It wasn’t long until he was shivering. “Fuck, get off, I wanna come on that stupidly nice face you have there.” Lance complied with ease, and it wasn’t long until strings of cum across the bridge of his nose and his lips.

“Well, that’s a new one. I swallow, you know,” Lance said, standing to his feet and wiping himself off with the finger before licking it off. Let's just pretend that Keith's heart didn't melt at that.

“Do you want me to uh, return the favor?” Keith asked, tucking himself up and pulling his pants up as he leaned tiredly against the wall. “I don’t mind.”

“Ah, I have a better idea,” the taller man grinned, putting a hand above Keith and cornering him against the wall. He then grabbed Keith’s chin, and for a second a flash of worry hit Keith like a punch. He felt the weight of his peacemaker in his pocket and his reflexes were ready to fight if needed. Sure, he was still on his high from the orgasm, but that wouldn’t stop him kicking ass. Instead, Lance leaned in and kissed him slowly before whispering.

“Why don’t you come back to my place and ride me like you ride that bike of yours?”

He could feel himself tense up at the suspect’s words and half of him was screaming no, you dumbass, you’re compromising your job. Unfortunately, that half of his brain wasn’t working and the sex-freak that he was underneath all the leader jackets and cool detective looks were top priority.

“Hell yeah, let’s go.”

When they got back to the bike, Lance stopped him from getting on. He gave Keith those damn puppy eyes once again and smiled. “Hey, can uh, can I try driving it? Please?” He drew in a breath because...he trusted Lance, somehow. Even though this damn bike was his heart and soul, something about Lance gave him the comfort he needed to let him drive.

“Sure, just be careful. I will sue and kill you and then sue you again if you crash her, kid,” Keith huffed, tying his hair up as Lance straddled himself on the seat. He gave a mock salute and watched as Keith put on the helmet, sat behind him and leaned forward to press the key in. WIth a jolt the hovercycle lifted itself and hummed to life, making Lance squeak.

“I’ve driven one before, just not one as nice and pretty as this one,” he said, his foot pressing on the accelerator and pulling out.

Keith huffed and wrapped his hands around Lance’s hips. “More incentive for you not to crash her, then.” Lance laughed at that, and then started cruising down the streets of Altea.  
This..was nice, and it wasn’t just because Keith was a secret romantic asshat or sexually deprived until 5 minutes ago. It..was safe, here with Lance, definitely safer than most of his life has been up until then. It..may have been way too good to be true, but Keith hoped otherwise.

He really did.

“Where do you live, exactly?” Keith spoke up after a minute or two when he realized he was in an unknown part of the city, which was a rarity for him.

“Right down here, actually. There’s a transporter my buddy planted that leads us right to my block, since it’s on the other side of town. That cool?” There was a bit of a waiver in the other’s voice, causing Keith concern. Something was up, but Keith could handle himself.

“Fine with me.”

Lance nodded, revving up the bike and speeding up, turning to a corner into another alleyway, just big enough to fit the bike. On the end was a bright blue portal, which lead into a darker area that was hard to make out. “You ready, hotshot?”

With a bit of hesitation and once again feeling the weight of his gun in his holster, Keith grinned and wrapped his arms tighter. “Let’s go.”

As they passed through the transport, Keith closed his eyes and squeezed. His heart raced and shit, the temperature rose and he could feel heat on his back and wind. It was familiar, all too familiar.

Keith’s violet eyes opened. They were definitely not in Altea anymore.

They were in the Arizona desert.

And Keith was very, very _fucked_. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's pissed, but he gets unpissed at some point. Someone get this man a drink and stable emotions.

Home. 

 

There were a lot of ‘homes’ to Keith; ever since he was younger he was bouncing from house to house to house. Foster homes were never permanent, always changing- whether it be because of Keith’s behavior or abusive foster parents, the whole nine yards. Temporary, always temporary. Or at least they were. Not until Arizona. 

 

By the age of ten, he was driven down to Sonoran Desert, a place he had never been personally but he knew was one of the hottest deserts in the region. He watched as his DCS agent drove along in that stuffy, jet black car with all his shit in the backseat and parked the car on the dusty road. A road that led up to a small, ranch house that was also the home of the Shirogane family. More importantly, it was Keith’s only home. 

 

The same home that him and Lance were parked right in front of, worn down by abandonment and time. They were off the bike by now, hearts racing as the two faced each other. Keith had his gun out, finger on the trigger. He had drawn it out once Lance held two pistols up at him, with a dumb smirk on his face. 

 

“Alright, buddy, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way,” Lance cooed, flicking the gun in his right palm toward the broken down door. “You can drop your keys ‘n the gun and get inside or,” he paused, cocking the gun. “...well, I think you can guess.”  

  
A shiver went through Keith’s spine as he considered the situation, his grip unwavering. He’s been in small places like this before, metaphorically at least, where he didn’t have the upper hand. Two guns could do hell of a lot more damage than one, but only if the shooter was skilled enough. But with the way Lance charmed him and got him into a spot like this, Keith had a good feeling that this damn guy knew what he was doing. 

 

With as minimal resistance as possible, Keith let his gun hit the sand in a plop along with his keys. “Tell me where you’re going,” he commanded, taking a step back as Lance took a step forward with his guns lowered. Except then a step turned into a few more steps, and suddenly Keith was inside his old living room with its peeling wallpaper and cracking drywall. It smelled like a grandma’s house, or at least, what Keith would think a grandma’s house would smell like. Dust was everywhere, coating his shoes as he stumbled inside. It just wasn’t the same.

 

Lance followed eagerly, shoving one of his guns in his hidden holster and the other in his jacket pocket. “For now, you don’t need to know,” he said quietly, reaching for Keith’s arms. The detective flinched but was tugged closer, close enough to become face to face with the other. “But I _promise_ that I’ll talk to you soon, Detective Kogane.” 

 

Just like that, their lips pressed together hard once more and Keith couldn’t remember a single thing after that.  

 

**✩✩✩**

 

“I woke up on the floor with a nasty bruise on my him, called you and then Pidge,” Keith finished explaining two hours into the car ride with Shiro, head tilted towards his brother. “I have them running several background checks on the dark web and all that, searching for the guy. They said they got a lead, but the damn connection got cut off out here.” He tapped his handheld comms for emphasis, only stopping when he felt Shiro’s hand on his shoulder, giving soft, comforting pats. 

 

That’s one thing Shiro was always good for, at least: reassurance. Keith doesn’t really know what he’d do without him. 

 

“Well, the hunt isn’t over then right? You still have time to find him.” That damn voice Shiro uses on him to calm him down helps, to Keith’s resentment. It didn’t help the guilt burning up his abdomen. He failed, he failed Shiro of all people. He fucked up his own brother’s case just to possibly get laid, what kind of PI was he? In the pre-sync they would’ve kicked his ass for that one, probably get suspended too. 

 

“I’m...sorry,” the detective sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten caught up in all of that. I mean, it was just heat of the moment and-”

 

“Hey,” Shiro laughed, giving him that shining bright smile of his. “Don’t apologize, I understand. It happens, and you’re smart enough to get back at that jackass. You haven’t fucked up anything.” A whimper of relief escaped left his lips and a small, genuine smile spread on Keith’s face. It turned into a cackling laugh when Shiro smirked and said, “Besides, I told you how I once got caught having a threesome in my dad’s office, right?” 

 

Once the laughter died down, Keith smiled gently. “Thanks, Takashi. I guess you always know what to say, huh.” His brother snorted at that, shaking his head and drove in the quiet hum of the music. 

 

A few hours later and they were on the busy roads of uptown Altea once again. Shiro was nice enough to pick him and Pidge a coffee before kicking him out of Black and onto the sidewalk next to his office. Practically his second home, at this point, despite him working in the field most of the time. Pidge never seemed to mind though. As long as they got their food and coffee, they were happy. 

 

Whipping out his key, Keith unlocked the office door and walked into the dim lit space. The first thing he saw was a laid out Pidge, their legs up on the table as they typed away at their keyboard in their lap. “Hey, Kogane,” they said, their fingers hovering over the keyboard as they looked up at the mess that was Keith. 

 

He shed his jacket and smiled lopsidedly, placing the coffees on the desk. “Howdy,” Keith grumbled, placing his coat on the rack and sliding into his favorite office chair. He rolled over to Pidge, who already snatched their drink up and was gulping it down like a man on a mission. 

 

“Hey, got some interesting news for ya, Keefers,” they chirped, “Might cheer you up.” Their fingers tapped quickly along the keyboard as they pulled up a holographic screen. Physically flinching as he saw Lance’s face in the profile Pidge showed, Keith bounced his knee and huffed. 

 

“Enlighten me then.”

 

“Lance McClain graduated from the Garrison a year ago, majored in law and psychology,” Pidge hummed, sipping on their coffee. “Which is not something you’d expect from a criminal, but he probably uses it to slip around, my guess.” 

 

Keith grunted in acknowledgement, twiddling his fingers. “The guy’s smart enough to do it, too. He had me fooled, that asshat.” Pidge raised an eyebrow, a sarcastic comment on their tongue but they bit it when they saw Keith glare. “Shut it, kid.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. It turns out he was top of his class, a good kid by his records too.”

 

“Weird,” Keith hummed, chewing on his straw. “Either he’s been keeping up a fake name since his teen years or he’s new to crime.” He rubbed his face, tilting his back and leaning in his chair. “Though the way he gunned me down, I doubt it’s the later.” His was voice rough, tired. He knew Pidge could tell but he didn’t feel like being babied right now. He had to get this done, for Takashi’s own sake. 

 

“Hey, you should go back to your place,” it didn’t take long for that to come right after. Before he could get a word in, Pidge was practically shoving him out of the office. “You probably have leftovers from the Cafe rotting in your fridge, you gotta go tend to that, boss.” Not that it was that big of a deal, it was a lame excuse if anything. 

 

But it did get him out of the office and down the block to his apartment. Keith didn’t exactly love the idea of walking home alone, but he managed to swipe his spare pistol from his office, so at least he could put up a fight. Except he did end up home in one piece, luckily. As soon as he entered, he tore his clothes off save for his boxers and collapsed his raggedy couch. 

 

Not sleeping for hours on end does that to you, sometimes.

 

**✩✩✩**

 

The first sound Keith heard when he got up was the ringing of his comms system that somehow landed on his wood floor. Who knew that Rock You like a Hurricane could sound so shitty in the morning? 

 

Except, it wasn’t the morning. Keith sat up, grabbing the comms and reading the time. 9:00 in the evening already, but he felt like he would have slept another eight hours if he had the chance. He tapped back to the call and swiped to answer, after all Pidge would be the only one to call him at this hour. 

 

“Hello?” He mumbled groggily, rubbing his eye as he sat up. “Pidge, what’s up? Did you get locked out of the office again?”

 

As he stood up, he heard shuffling on the line as he carried the comms over to the island in the kitchen. Putting it on speaker, he reached for his fridge and scavenged for any stinky leftovers that would probably kill him on sight if he opened them. 

 

“You sound sleepy, detective. Get a good nap in?” 

 

That voice definitely wasn’t Pidge; it was too smooth, silky and much too charming. It was all  _ Lance _ . 

 

It made Keith almost drop the old sub he was holding over the garbage and turn slowly. He could hear a gentle laugh that made his skin crawl on the other end. He could practically hear the cattish grin in his voice as he spoke. “What, didn’t expect to hear from me so soon?”

 

“How’d you get this number, asshole? It’s a private line.” Keith tossed his food in the trash and closed the fridge with a foot, jumping up and sitting on the island. 

 

“Not exactly _private_ if it’s on your keyring, bud,” Lance said, the jingling of keys not far from the mic. “Don’t get so defensive, Keith, I’m just here to talk.”

 

Keith fisted a hand into his hair, face scrunching up. “Talk?! You couldn’t have talked to me _before_ you stole my shit?” 

 

“Point taken, but I needed this to be a secure conversation.”

  
“Oh, is the middle of fucking nowhere not secure enough for you?” Keith grumbled. “What do you want, Lance?”

 

Lance laughed, as if it were obvious. “To talk, duh. Are you listening?”

 

He pondered at that for a second, tapping his fingers on his knee. “No, you know what? You’re going to park my cycle on the address I send to you and you’re going to meet me there.”

 

“What? No, I can’t do-”

  
“You don’t exactly have a choice here, McClain. Be there, or get nothing,” Keith cut him off, pushing aside the call on his comms and texting the number his address. If Lance was trying to get personal with him, Keith was going to do it on his home ground. “Oh, and keep the gun. Come unarmed or there won’t be any time to talk with the bullet between your eyes.”

 

A moment of silence dropped in the air and the buzz of the comms was the only thing that filled it. Lance sighed, shuffling. “Fine. See you there.” 

 

“See you there.” 

 

Keith hung up and left his comms on the counter. He headed to his room and sorted through his closet, throwing on an old red shirt and a pair of black jeans that he’s owned forever now. He didn’t exactly care about his looks right now, only two things. Feeding the pit in his stomach and getting this shit with Lance straight. So he grabbed a bite from his fridge, then his comms and headed out the door. 

 

**✩✩✩**

 

Despite his sweet talking, when Keith showed up to the meeting place, Lance essentially looked like shit. He looked dirtier, with smudges on those tan cheeks and his hair tousled messily. He was sitting on the bike with a cigarette between his teeth. Once he spotted Keith, he got up and stomped the cig out before heading over. Lance looked nervous, surprisingly. Much too nervous for a man who held two guns to his face a few hours prior. 

 

The taller man held out his palm, revealing his keys and Keith’s gun. After snatching them, he sighed, putting them in the back of his jean pockets and nodded his head for Lance to follow him inside silently. 

 

Once in the interior of his apartment, Keith locked the door and immediately grabbed Lance, pushing him against the wall. He took the gun from his pocket and cocked it right up against Lance’s temple. “Hey! What the hell is this for?!” Lance squeaked, putting his hands up. “Look, I know I said some things about fucking but right now? Not the time, man.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes and pressed the gun harder against him. “Stay still,” he said quietly, using a free hand to frisk over Lance’s body. When nothing showed, he stepped back and tucked the gun away. He strolled to his couch and seated himself down. Lance seemed a little shaken up, taking his time to lean himself over the kitchen’s island. 

 

Twiddling his thumbs, Lance faced Keith with a weak smile. “Alright, so I guess you’ve figured out that I haven’t, uh...exactly been honest..” 

 

“Cut the pleasantries and talk, kid.” 

 

The taller man leaned back, stretched and then sighed. “My...name is still Lance McClain, but I’m..not actually a student or anything, not anymore at least.” Keith glared, giving him the “no-shit-sherlock” look. 

“Look, I’m just gonna spit it out. I’m a private eye, just like you.”

 

Keith raised his eyebrows. That was a curveball for him at least, but shit, really? “Why didn’t you just fuckin’ tell me that then?” 

 

“Just, let me explain, dude. I’m..kind of brand new at this whole thing-- not like I just started, I’ve been in a lot of trainings in the past year. It’s kind of a mix up, actually. I kinda bullshit my way through college and uh, somehow got top of the class?” Lance laughed, scratching his neck. He actually looked embarrassed, poor guy. “But that..kind of got me picked into the private Altean guard, and I bullshit my way through the trainings too..” 

 

Staring agape, the shorter man had to consciously close his mouth. This, this asshole gets chosen for the Altean guard? The private one, no less? By bullshitting? “Show me the badge.”

 

After digging in his pocket, Lance pulled out a shiny badge from his wallet. It read Lance McClain, sector 6-17 of Altean Private Guard. Keith could probably fall on the fucking floor at this point. 

 

“Anyway,” Lance continued nonchalantly, putting his hands in his pockets. “I got assigned to this case, a huge one for my first solo. Just my luck, it had to deal with the Galra.”

 

Ah, the Galra. That damn secretive gang that ran the backroads of Altea, one that Keith’s only heard of back when he used to work in the pre-sync. He’s lucky that he isn’t so mainstream that he’s never dealt with them on a personal level, making him feel a little sympathy for Lance. 

 

“The Guard is thinking that they’ve been stealing from bigger companies, since there’s been plenty of reports of massive inventory shipments gone,” Lance moved over to the couch at this point, crossing his legs and leaning back. “Which leads me to why I’m here, Keithy. I know Shirogane and you are close, so I figured you’d be the best person to help me out. You’re experienced and have your head on straight,” Lance snorted at that, “but that’s why I need your help.” 

 

Keith rubbed his face, moving his hands back to tie his hair as he processed the info. “That explains why you were on my brother’s property, then.”

 

“Wait, what?” Lance arched himself up a bit, staring with a puzzled look on his face. “I’ve..never been? Like, not even for that school trip, that was a deadass lie but-”

 

A beat passed. Then another. 

 

“You..mean you _weren’t_ on Shiro’s property?” Keith asked slowly, narrowing his eyes. “It’s..awfully strange then that one of the employees told me that you were. Pidge would’ve saw you on the security cams and told me though..” He paused, gasping as he hit a realization. 

 

“Oh shit, I think the Galra are working from the inside.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading though! kudos, comments and bookmarks warm my heart, especially on this fic!!!! <333333
> 
> you can follow me on twitter @notyadad <3 pleas i need more vld lovin friends


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